


Tempered

by shadeshifter



Series: Finding Home [23]
Category: Angel: the Series, Criminal Minds, Highlander: The Series, NCIS, Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 06:08:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6893221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadeshifter/pseuds/shadeshifter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The demons haven't given up on their plans and they're not the only ones. The team tries to deal with everything as best they can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had half of this planned, but I rearranged my room and one of my notebooks has gone missing, so I had to replan everything again according to my vague recollections. I really need to get more organised.
> 
> Also, there’s part of me that ships Forseti/Jane. But that may just be a Pavlovian response to Norse gods and women named Jane.

A man in a white lab coat bent diligently over his microscope, staring at the sample. He didn’t have a ring, rings were too obvious, but he did have a bracelet. A bracelet that was rather intricately engraved and adorned with a single green stone. For the last six months, he’d worked at the lab, investigating diseases and their effects. It wasn’t as well-funded as some of its competitors, but what it lost in access and assets it made up for in privacy. It was the reason he’d managed to find time to work on modifying a strand of Ebola without anyone being the wiser. 

He wasn’t the most powerful. In fact, his predecessor had been much more powerful than he could hope to be without intervention, but then he hadn’t come into power in the middle of an apocalypse. Not even close. The supernatural world had taken several hits over the last few years. He also knew better than to draw the ire of the Winchesters. As he understood it, they had even more powerful allies now.

He was at a particularly delicate part of his experiment when the inner door of the lab swished open. He spared a moment to look at the man and woman before carefully putting the experiment to one side. It wouldn’t harm him, but he wasn’t ready yet to let loose his little contagion. He turned then, to face the two intruders.

“What do you want?” he asked. They didn’t answer him, just continued to advance on him. Between one blink and the next their eyes had flooded with black. Demons.

“What’s going on?” he demanded of them. “You will answer me.”

The two demons kept their silence as they circled him. He struggled to keep them both in sight at the same time.

“Answer me!” he persisted, turning to watch the male demon as he wondered a little too close to the experiment. There was a shuffle as the woman moved quickly behind him and then he was gasping as a long knife slipped into him. He coughed as the knife cut into one of his lungs and wheezed as he tried to draw in air. He laughed.

“You really think that’s going to stop me?” he asked, trying to extricate himself off of the knife. The male demon grinned as the female wrapped an arm around his neck, holding him in place. The male grabbed his arm and ripped the bracelet from it.

“This will do nicely,” the demon said, letting him drop to the ground. Without his power, he became acutely aware of his lungs filling with fluid and his blood spilling out around him.


	2. Chapter 2

Jane watched Tony read over the titles of the books on her shelves. It was a little strange to see someone associated with Adam and Damien in her office. She had become a little too used to being abducted from the street and taken to the warehouse.

“You’re a relationship counsellor?” he asked, still not turning to look at her.

“Primarily,” Jane agreed. Tony snorted.

“For once that’s not an issue.”

He played with the ring on his finger as though still not entirely used to it. Engaged or married, she thought, but newly. 

“What is your partner like?” she asked, carefully not using any pronouns. Adam had arranged with his boss to give her the bare details of what Tony had gone through, but there’d been nothing about his personal life. Tony turned then, looking at her for the first time, a faint smile on his face that she thought he probably wasn’t aware of. 

“Aaron is... strong and stoic,” Tony said, thumb absently rubbing the ring as he spoke. Aaron was clearly important to him and the relationship a source of comfort. “He’s kind and funny, but the job doesn’t let him show that all that often.”

“The job?” she prompted.

“He’s also with the FBI.”

“That must be difficult,” she said. “Trying to arrange your schedules around each other.”

“The travel makes it difficult sometimes,” he admitted with a shrug. “But we make it work. Jessica, his sister-in-law, helps with Jack.”

“Jack?”

“Aaron’s son,” Tony said, faint smile brightening. 

He seemed to have a solid support system, which was good from what she’d read about his experience. Torture wasn’t exactly something she was qualified to treat, but she’d volunteered at women’s shelters before. A solid support system was always one of the most significant aspects to recovering from trauma. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be asking me about my ‘trauma’?” he asked, turning away again to look out the window, but not before she caught the sardonic twist to his smile before it faded.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, fairly certain she knew the answer to that already.

“Adam says he recommended you,” Tony said instead of answering. He didn’t turn away from the window, so she knew she had to tread carefully.

“He did,” she told him without admitting anything further. 

“But how...” he trailed off and snorted. A moment later, he was snickering uncontrollably so that he had to collapse on the couch. The first time he’d sat all session. Finally, his laughter eased and he looked at her, eyes glinting with mirth and mischief. “Adam and Kr... Damien are seeing a relationship therapist.”

Jane didn’t say anything, knowing anything she might say would be taken as confirmation. Tony grinned, taking her silence as confirmation anyway. Slowly his smile faded, but the fact that he could take joy in things, even at the expense of his colleagues, meant that his recovery was going well. He must have been quite resilient.

“I can’t say I always understand what Adam sees in him,” Tony said, fingers beginning to drum against the armrest. 

She raised an eyebrow. They seemed to match each other perfectly from what she had seen, similar in enough ways that they understood each other and different enough that they still challenged each other. Tony sighed.

“That’s not true,” he continued. “I don’t always like what that means.”

“Why?” she asked, hoping Adam wouldn’t mind becoming the topic of Tony’s session. It was clear Tony was dealing with something other the trauma that had to do with Adam and Damien, and Adam had recommended her despite the possible conflict of interest. If he did mind, she might just consider that karma. Tony was proving to be extremely challenging and she had to give as much as she took.

“Adam might be a bit morally flexible, but he usually gets around to doing the right thing, even if we might disagree about what that means. Damien takes great joy in doing the wrong thing, every time,” Tony said, fingers continuing to tap out a rhythm on the armrest. His foot was tapping too.

“And you worry about him?” she asked. He looked at her sharply.

“I worry about all my team. That’s what a team leader does.”

“Even when they might not need it?”

“They always need it, especially when they think they don’t,” he told her.

“Sounds like you take being a good leader seriously,” she said, leaning forward a little. He narrowed his eyes for the briefest moment before he smiled winningly and she knew she’d lost him.

“I’m good at my job,” he told her, leaning back, loose limbed and apparently relaxed. She withheld a sigh and smiled.

“I think we made good progress this session, but I’d like to see you again later this week,” she said. He raised an eyebrow.

“Another session?” he asked, folding his arms. “The Fed shrinks usually sign off by now.”

“I think you’re doing well, but I’d still like another session,” she insisted. 

“Fine,” he conceded with a roll of his eyes. She took his concession as a good sign and ignored the defensive body language.

...

“Kronos,” Methos said in surprise as he closed his front door behind him. Kronos was lounging on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table. 

“What are you doing home?” Kronos asked, dropping his feet to the ground and standing up.

“Taking a long lunch,” Methos told him, dropping his bag on the kitchen counter on his way to the fridge. “What are you doing here?”

Kronos seemed to hesitate a moment before he stalked forward.

“I was in town on business,” he said, coming to wrap an arm around Methos’ waist from behind and pulling him close. Methos leaned back against him. “And I never can resist you.”

“That right?”

“Chasing you for millennia didn’t prove anything?” Kronos asked, smirking against his neck.

“Why are you really here?” Methos persisted. 

“I wanted to see you,” Kronos told him, but Methos was sure there was more to it. 

“You were here when you didn’t think I would be,” Methos said, not letting Kronos off the hook. 

Kronos shrugged and bit at Methos’ earlobe, hand snaking up Methos’ shirt to run up his spine. Methos tilted his head, but otherwise remained resolved.

“I missed you,” Kronos mumbled into his shoulder, almost too muffled to hear, then he growled and edged Methos back against the counter. Methos obligingly hopped up and let Kronos settle between his thighs. 

“I don’t have all that long,” Methos told him. “I have a meeting in an hour.”

“You’re playing the boss, you can spare the time.”

“Only while Tony is gone and that just means I have more responsibilities,” Methos said as he tugged at Kronos’ belt. “I can give you twenty minutes.”

Kronos’ grin was sharp and satisfied as though he’d been certain Methos would relent but Methos found he didn’t mind all that much. 

“I missed you too,” he admitted, hooking a leg around Kronos’ hips and pulling him closer. 

“You’ve always talked too much,” Kronos said, biting at his lip and then leaning in to kiss him until Methos was robbed of breath. Methos moaned and let himself tumble into the sensations.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack’s hand was warm in his as they walked across the BAU bullpen. The rest of Aaron’s team was either on leave or busy in their own offices, which Tony was inordinately relieved about. Reid and JJ were still on leave, much like he was, and according to Tony’s own team, things had been more than a little tense around the office.

Tony paused in the doorway of Aaron’s office, letting go of Jack’s hand and smiling as he watched the boy run up to his father. Aaron swivelled in his chair and leaned over to hug Jack tightly. He sought Tony’s gaze and his eyes crinkled in a smile.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you until later,” Aaron said, picking up Jack to sit on his lap.

“Didn’t feel like waiting.”

Aaron gave him a questioning look, but didn’t push; they were both aware Tony had had his first appointment with the psychologist this morning. 

“I should be able to leave early for once,” Aaron told him. “I’m almost caught up on the paperwork.”

“What about take out and a movie tonight?” Tony offered, leaning against the doorframe and folding his arms. 

“Sounds good.”

Jack huddled in his father’s lap and Tony knew he was still feeling the effects of his absence. While Tony coming home had helped Jack’s nightmares, Tony being injured hadn’t. Making sure Jack was okay though had helped Tony put what had happened to him in some kind of perspective and he was sure some quiet time at home together would help them all. This was his family and that thought wrapped him in warmth. The ring on his finger was a comfort and a promise. One he was determined to match and that wasn’t as much of a surprise as it would have been a few years ago.

“DiNozzo,” Rossi greeted, coming to standing at his shoulder. Tony shifted to allow him entrance to the office. Rossi had initially reacted about as well as could be expected to the revelation that the supernatural world was real, but he’d been a source of support for Aaron and, surprisingly, Tony. 

“Rossi,” Tony said with a nod. The man dropped a file on Aaron’s desk, greeting the BAU leader as well and sparing a grin and head ruffle for Jack. Rossi stopped short when he turned back to look at Tony.

“Congratulations,” he said and it took Tony a moment to realise he’d seen the ring. He smiled, but there was an uncomfortable edge to it. The only people who knew so far were his team; he hadn’t really been at the office and, after a discussion, they’d agreed that Aaron would sit on the news until things had settled a bit.

“Thanks.”

“Making an honest man of him?” Rossi said, turning back to Aaron. “About damn time.”

“Actually, he beat me to it,” Aaron admitted with an affectionate smile. 

“Good job, kid,” Rossi said, patting Tony’s shoulder as he walked from the room. Tony twitched at the unexpected contact, but still smiled at Rossi as he went.

...

Kronos smirked to himself as he let himself out of Methos’ apartment. If he’d known centuries ago that all it took to get what he wanted from Methos was some not too painful compromises and the occasional emotional confession, as uncomfortable as he often found those, his life likely would have been a lot simpler. And longer. 

He was always surprised to find himself actually content. He’d re-established Moreau’s empire and, most especially, had reclaimed Methos who had been the focus of his life for so many millennia that a life without him in some form simply made no sense. It was why, when Methos has abandoned him all those years ago, he’d spent centuries hunting him down, determined to make him share Kronos’ vision. Believing Methos' survival instinct would make him submit, even if some part of him had always known that Methos was far too independent to yield to someone else’s vision for long.

He was halfway down the street when the sense that something wasn’t right made him slow. It was too quiet for the middle of the day. There were several people out on the street and, though none of them were looking at him, he could feel that he was their focus.

“Methos already left,” he said to the street at large. He kept his composure when a woman suddenly appeared at his side.

“We waited for Azrael to leave,” she told him, shifting to stand in front of him, forcing him to stop. His stare was hard and his jaw set. Some part of him, buried in the most instinctive and primal part of him, feared the power angels had. Well, except Methos whose power was significantly reduced and Gabriel who seemed to like him well enough. 

Kronos had a gun on him but even loaded with silver bullets it wasn’t going to help him much against angels. Not that there was much that would. Kronos was definitely going have to put his persuasive techniques of Methos to the test and try to get him to give him an angel blade. He’d let himself grow far too complacent when the angels previously hadn’t shown much interest in him. He drew the gun anyway, determined not to go down without a fight. Two shots were all he managed to get off before she wrenched the gun out of his hands. He leapt forward with a punch that knocked her back a step. A moment later, two of the angels were gripping his arms so tightly he felt the bones grind together. 

“Methos won’t be happy about this,” Kronos said, knowing that he had little chance against them, but that they feared and respected Methos. 

“We do this for Azrael,” the angel said. Kronos smirked, hoping Methos would be able to pull some strings or, failing that, hunt them down and kill them for this.

“He really won’t thank you for that,” Kronos said, readying himself for a final death. Instead, the angel raised a hand to his forehead and everything went black.

...

Dean was alone in the office; Adam was in a meeting and Lindsey had disappeared with the excuse of research though he hadn’t specified what. He leaned back in his chair, feet on the desk and he slowly sharpened one of his knives. He smirked whenever a probie wandered past and then scampered away at the sight of him.

“So this is where the tax I don’t pay goes.”

Dean was on feet, knife to Crowley’s throat before the demon finished talking. Crowley stared at him steadily, not even twitching at the knife at his neck.

“Azrael showed me how to incorporate sigils and blessings that would harm even you,” Dean told him, pressing the blade closer. Crowley raised an eyebrow but remained unfazed. Sometimes Dean really wanted just to bash his face in. “What do you want?”

“I come here out of the goodness of my heart and this is how you treat me?” Crowley said, affecting a tone of deep hurt. Dean rolled his eyes.

“You don’t have a heart. What do you want?”

Crowley stepped back, just far enough that the blade was no longer digging into his skin and rubbed at his throat.

“I was going to give you some information, but I’m inclined to change my mind,” Crowley said folding his arms. Dean gritted his teeth. 

“In exchange for what?” Dean demanded.

“I told you,” Crowley said at his oiliest. “Out of the goodness of my heart.”

The only thing keeping Dean from punching the smirk off his face was the fact they were in the middle of the FBI and Crowley had sort of helped them with Lucifer, although not very successfully. Dean refused to make a verbal concession, but he lowered the knife and placed it on the desk. Crowley smirked, taking it for the surrender it was. Dean really wished killing him in the middle of the FBI wouldn’t cause a stir.

“There’s a faction of demons planning something to do with your team,” Crowley told him. Dean scoffed.

“You’re a little late to the party.”

They were still feeling the ripples of Tony being taken and likely would for some time. Dean folded his arms, matching Crowley’s stance. Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“If you mean framing the holder of your leash, do you really think that was their endgame?” Crowley asked with a laugh. “They haven’t even begun.”

“What do you mean?” Dean demanded, hand automatically going for the knife. If Crowley wasn’t going to be straight with him then Dean would make him talk, screw the FBI and the consequences.

“They already have an ally in your camp,” Crowley told him, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Who?”

“That would be telling.”

He was gone before Dean finished turning and reached toward his desk, torn between going for the knife or the phone.


	4. Chapter 4

Methos kept a wary eye on his surroundings as he went from his car to the elevator. After his meeting, he’d found out about Dean’s encounter with Crowley. Without any specific information about what threat they might be facing, if they could trust Crowley but Methos tender to err on the side of caution, there was very little they could actually do. 

He kept his pace even when he heard footsteps behind him. He glanced in car windows and side mirrors as he walked, trying to spot who, or what, it might be but they managed to keep out of his line of sight. He dropped his shoulders, sticking his hands into the pockets of his coat, feeling the reassuring outline of his backup gun. As he reached the elevators, he made out a shadowed figure in the reflective surface of the doors. Keeping the movement casual, he drew the gun from his pocket and turned to face the figure.

“Kronos,” he said in surprise. Kronos was hunched into a dark coat, keeping to the shadow of a pillar as he watched Methos with dark intensity. 

“Methos,” Kronos said, stalking forward. “You owe me.”

“I rather thought you owed me at this point,” Methos said lightly, angling his body to hide the gun. “I was late for my meeting.”

This wasn’t Kronos, not the Kronos he had been involved with the last few years; the demeanour, the body language, everything was both familiar and all wrong. If it was a shapeshifter then the silver bullets would still work; if it wasn't then at least he'd know. A shadow passed over Kronos’ eyes and they narrowed. Methos shifted his stance, ready for a fight because he remembered that look for all that it was on Damien Moreau’s face.

When Kronos continued to move forward, Methos stepped back and raised his gun. Kronos smirked but didn’t so much as pause. The bullets had no affect, not like they should have if the man in front of him was a shapeshifter. The only thing Methos could think of was that another demon had commandeered Moreau’s body. 

“Who are you?” Methos demanded as Kronos backed him up against the wall, cutting off his escape routes.

“I know I have a new face but don’t you recognise me?” Kronos asked, pressing Methos against the cold concrete and limiting his options of escaping or fighting. “You disappoint me, Brother.”

It was starting to feel far too much like the last time Kronos had tracked him down before Kronos’ death at the hands of MacLeod. Methos might have orchestrated Kronos’ death and helped save Bordeaux last time, but the thought didn’t give him a great deal of comfort. 

“I don’t like being disappointed,” Kronos told him and that tone was so familiar too, even if he hadn’t heard it in decades. It was as though all the compromise and progress and work they’d done over the last few years had been wiped away. 

“That explains a lot,” Methos said, testing to see if there was any give in Kronos’ grip on him. 

“We have much to discuss,” Kronos told him, leaning in close so that he appeared to loom over Methos even though they were of a height.

“I can think of a few things I’d like answers to,” Methos muttered. Like what the hell, or beyond, was going on. 

His breath left him in a quick exhale as a blade slide under his ribs, angling for his heart. His heartbeat became erratic and his legs seemed to lose all ability to hold him up. Kronos gathered him in his arms and lowered him to the ground as his vision began to grey.

“I want my answers first,” Kronos told him.

...

Tony opened the door, expecting to see someone delivering their Chinese, but some part of him wasn’t exactly surprised to see Dean with an uneasy look on his face. Their luck simply wasn't that good.

“What’s gone wrong now and why isn’t Adam dealing with it?” Tony said with a sigh as he stepped aside to let Dean in.

“Adam’s gone,” Dean told him as he followed Tony further into the house. “At least, I think he might be.”

“Right, of course he is,” Tony said, detouring to look into the lounge, where Aaron and Jack were playing Candyland. Aaron looked up at him in concern.

“Not dinner then?” he said, mouth set in a grim line. Tony shook his head, knowing as much as Aaron might not like it at the moment, he ultimately understood. Jack looked between them, brow creased when Tony didn’t return to the game. Tony gave him a reassuring smile and turned and headed for study, Dean close on his heels. 

“What’s going on?” Tony asked, closing the door behind him. 

“I know you’re supposed to be on leave,” Dean said with a roll of his eyes. Tony smiled wryly, knowing they’d all been sending him daily updates anyway, after he’d spent his first proper day of leave phoning them every hour or so. He’d tried to get Crawford to let him return early and all that had got him was more mandatory sessions with a psychologist. “Had a demon come to me today with some information on a threat.”

“A demon?” Tony asked, leaning against the edge of the desk and folding his arms.

“Crowley, King of the Crossroads with higher ambitions. With Lucifer caged he might actually be King of Hell at this point,” Dean said. 

“Trustworthy?”

Dean shook his head and shrugged. 

“No... maybe... it depends on if he’s getting something out of it too,” Dean told him. “I told Adam and Lindsey and we’ve been checking in on each other periodically, only Adam stopped responding. Lindsey’s at his place right now; Adam’s car’s there, but there’s no sign he reached his apartment.”

Tony nodded, a little put off at not being included in the loop immediately, but also aware that the team was clearly trying to protect him when it came to demons. He was torn between being annoyed at the kid gloves – they were definitely going to be dealing with that before he returned to work - and being relieved that he didn’t have to face another demon so soon. Before everything that had happened, the team had protected house against almost everything. After, they’d fortified it. Tony had to admit, Jack and Aaron, and being forced to see Jane had been good for getting to him to actually step outside the protections rather than just hiding behind them.

“We should meet Lindsey there,” Tony said, striding across the room.

“That’s what I’m here for,” Dean told him, dangling his car keys. Tony grinned. Riding in Dean’s baby was always a treat. 

...

Stepping out of his car, flashier than he was used to but definitely worth whatever he’d paid for it or the effort he might have put into stealing it, Kronos went immediately to the trunk and lifted the lid. Methos was sprawled almost exactly as Kronos had dumped him and clearly hadn’t revived yet. A quick check of the now closed wound site showed that it probably wouldn’t be long. He paused long enough to put a bullet through Methos’ forehead. He couldn’t risk Methos reviving too soon. 

The symbols engraved on the gun and bullets were curious and he thought he recognised a handful, but he’d never been inclined to delve into the supernatural world all that closely. He hadn’t thought Methos had either, but he might need to re-evaluate that idea. Given how Methos had reacted to his appearance, with caution but almost welcoming, it seemed like there would be a lot he’d have re-evaluate. 

“You’re a difficult man to pin down,” a voice said, causing Kronos to spin, raising Methos’ gun. The man raised his hands with a smirk and, with a blink, his eyes turned black. The woman next to him did the same. Kronos lowered the gun knowing the bullets might hurt but wouldn’t actually stop them.

“What do you want?” he demanded, not bothering to hide Methos’ body. Demons would hardly care about an apparently dead man. 

“To set things right,” the woman said, stepping forward and holding something out for him. Kronos took it cautiously, looking over the bracelet. It wasn’t his style but he knew immediately what it was. 

“In my day, we had swords,” he said. Despite his derision, wherever his fingertips touched the metal felt electrified and he couldn’t help stroking it. 

The two demons sank down to one knee and lowered their heads. Kronos looked them over for a moment, considering what to do with them. He slipped the bracelet onto his wrist and felt the power surge into him. It felt almost like he’d donned his old skin. Pestilence was back.


	5. Chapter 5

Methos gasped in a harsh breath as his body jerked back to life. He blinked and tried to sit up, moving away from the figure looming over him. He was drawn short by cuff around his right wrist which was linked to a metal railing. Kronos pushed him back against the cold concrete. It was all a little too reminiscent of the last time. He absently wondered if Kronos had bought out all the abandoned warehouses in the area. It wouldn’t really surprise him.

“You have some serious domination issues,” Methos told him, unresistant for the moment. The team had been a terrible influence on his survival instinct, he decided. Last time this happened, years before he joined the team, he’d gone along with Kronos, had seriously considered standing by his side if he couldn’t bring him down. Of course, eliminating him had been a last resort. Kronos bared his teeth in something approaching a grin. 

“There’s the fire I remember,” Kronos said, leaning in close until their noses almost touched. “You’ve played at being small and passive far too long.”

Methos raised an eyebrow, revising his opinion of what had happened to Kronos. Another demon would know him by reputation at least. The last few years had ensured that. It had to be Kronos, but clearly without his memories. The sense of loss that swept through him was almost overwhelming. He’d betrayed his friends to try to keep Alexa with him; if it meant he could get Kronos back, the Kronos who’d come back from hell changed, he thought tearing the world apart might be a small price to pay. Kronos jerked back, away from whatever he saw in Methos’ eyes.

“I wasn’t playing,” Methos told him. “I just got old and tired.”

“You can’t tell me you don’t miss it,” Kronos said, regaining his equilibrium. “Doing whatever we wanted, taking whatever we wanted.”

“To what end?” Methos asked. “The only thing I wanted from those days was you.”

Kronos stared at him for a long moment before his face twisted with anger.

“You made the decision to leave, to drop me a hole and forget about me,” Kronos snarled, hand shifting to Methos’ throat. Methos looked up at him steadily.

“We had this conversation before,” he told Kronos, not struggling because getting through to Kronos was more important than a few bruises that wouldn't last. “We discussed things, you got your new face and I invited into my apartment. You spend a great deal of time there.”

He didn't mention Caffrey, although he knew Kronos took a strange sort of pride in his student, because as much as Caffrey thought he was prepared for Kronos, he didn't know this version of him. Kronos squeezed harder for a moment before he released Methos and backed away. He couldn’t seem to meet Methos’ gaze and Methos smiled grimly. Whatever it was that had inexorably drawn them together millennium after millennium was still there. 

“You always could spin a good story,” Kronos said before turning and striding out of the room. Methos thought it looked like nothing so much as fleeing. 

For a fraction of a second, Methos considered calling for Castiel and communicating with the team before shoving the thought aside. Kronos was always possessive and he might have recently learned to share, but this wasn’t that Kronos. Besides, he needed some time to deal with Kronos himself.

“Gabriel,” he said firmly as he turned to deal with the cuff. He gritted his teeth against the crunch pop of his thumb being dislocated. 

“Is this one of those things I don’t need or want to know about my older brother?” Gabriel asked from where he appeared in the middle of the room. “Have you been reading Fifty Shades?”

“This is one of those things where I ask for your help,” Methos told him. Gabriel quickly hid his surprise and grinned instead. 

“Well, I can hardly say no to my big brother owing me one,” Gabriel said, a book appearing in his hands that he made a note in. Methos rolled his eyes then winced as his thumb righted itself. 

“And that bit about pulling you back from death?” Methos asked, amused despite the circumstances.

“So two years ago,” Gabriel told him, taking a proper look around the room. “Did you get yourself kidnapped again? Who do you need me to torment?”

“Kronos.” 

“Hah,” Gabriel said triumphantly. “I knew it was just a matter of time.”

“You did?” Methos asked, stifling a smile. “Before or after the two of you went on a three day bender after which you had to alter a few memories?”

“I didn’t say he wasn’t fun.” Gabriel told him with a grin. “But I think you know that.”

“I don’t want to torment him,” Methos said, then paused thoughtfully. “Not much at least. I want to trap him.”

“You only had to ask, big brother,” Gabriel said, draping an arm around Methos’ shoulders. Methos snorted, wondering now if calling in Gabriel was worth it.

...

When inspecting the footage of the cameras at Adam’s apartment revealed little more than Adam having arrived after work and then apparently disappearing, Dean had suggested something a little reckless. Which is how they found themselves on a road in the middle of nowhere. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Tony asked, looking around the crossroads.

“No,” Dean said, “But do either of you have any other ideas?”

“No,” Lindsey said with a sigh. 

“Does Cas know anything?” Tony asked, shivering a little despite the relative warmth of the evening. He wasn’t sure if his reaction was to the feeling they were doing something illicit or the sense of latent but imminent danger in the air. 

“He’s asking his feathered friends now, but no one’s talking,” Dean told him, then turned to Lindsey. “Are the preparations done?”

Lindsey nodded, grabbing the knife that he’d engraved with symbols he’d been playing around with in the hopes of recreating Dean’s knife. Tony had one of the angel blades they’d managed to scrounge up clutched tightly in his hand while Dean buried a small box in the exact center of crossroads. A moment later, a man came strolling from the shadows to stand in front of Dean. He glanced at Tony and Lindsey before turning back to Dean. 

“I wouldn’t usually come in person these days, but you’re keeping such illustrious company now,” Crowley said. Tony shivered again at the way the guy’s voice seemed to slither its way into his ears. Crowley smirked as though he knew exactly the affect he was having. “After all, two of them came very close to almost seizing ultimate power.”

“We’re here to deal,” Dean said, stance strong and gaze steady, but Tony could hear the slight quaver in his voice and knew whatever hesitations he and Lindsey had, Dean probably had a thousandfold. Dean has already seen where this path leads.

“A deal?” Crowley said, smile widening. “Well, that is surprising. What terms? And keep in mind your soul is more trouble than it’s worth these days.”

“You will answer our questions and we’ll let you go,” Dean told him.

“Let me go?” Crowley asked with a laugh that died as he looked down with a frown. He scuffed a well polished shoe against the dirt and disturbed the layer of dirt covering the devil’s trap, similar to the others they’d drawn on cardboard and placed all around them. 

“This is what I get for trying to help the good guys,” Crowley muttered to himself. He then straightened and folded his arms, looking at Dean uncompromisingly. “Three questions, answered truthfully, for my freedom.”

“No souls,” Dean insisted.

“No souls,” Crowley agreed easily. 

He reminded Tony of Trent Kort. No matter how things looked to be playing out, somehow he always came out with what he wanted. Dean glanced between Tony who shrugged and Lindsey who nodded. If anyone knew the balance between exactly how stupid they were being and whether they might actually pull it off, it was Lindsey. Gritting his teeth, Dean nodded.

“Deal.”

“Excellent,” Crowley said with a grin. “Now to seal the deal.” Dean startled and then shuddered. “Didn’t consider that?”

With a roll of his eyes, Lindsey strode forward, gripped the lapels of Crowley’s jacket and pulled him in for a kiss. Crowley wasn’t above taking advantage of the situation and gripped Lindsey around the waist to dip him.

“I assume you're satisfied,” Lindsey said once he managed to extricate himself and step back outside the circle. Crowley let him go without issue.

“Immensely,” Crowley said, taking a moment to straighten his jacket. “Your questions?”

“Where is Adam or Methos, Azrael, Death or whatever other name he goes by?” Lindsey asked as comprehensively as he could. 

“I don’t know,” Crowley told them. “Two more questions.”

“Bullshit,” Dean said, adjusting his grip on his knife, to which Crowley shrugged.

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know, though I don’t find my ignorance any more enjoyable than you do,” Crowley said. 

“What are they planning to do with him?” Lindsey asked.

“Angels or demons?”

“Both.”

“Nothing,” Crowley said with a smirk. “One question left.”

Tony gripped Dean’s shoulder before the younger man could do something reckless. Dean remained tense and twitchy, but stayed in place. 

“What are the angels and demons planning?” Lindsey asked. 

“To separate Pestilence and Azrael from each other’s influence,” Crowley told them with a deeply disquieted and sceptical look. “Depending on the side, they want to bring him back to his former glory.”

“That’s insane,” Dean said, to which Crowley shrugged again before glancing down again.

“Now, I believe we had a deal?” Crowley told them. 

Tony and Dean readied themselves in case he tried anything once they’d freed him. The deal only held until then. Lindsey leaned down, his eyes on Crowley the entire time as he used his knife to cut through one edge of the card. Crowley quickly stepped away from the trap before turning to tip an imaginary hat at them. 

“I’ll give you something for free,” Crowley said, stopping to look over his shoulder. “There’s something neither side’s planned for.”

“What’s that?” Tony asked.

“Obsession.”


	6. Chapter 6

Kronos slammed Methos against the wall and Methos raised an eyebrow at him. He’d returned to find Methos casually wandering around the warehouse and had reacted about how Methos expected. 

“I don’t know if it was brave or stupid sticking around after you got free,” Kronos told him with a smirk. “I’ve never particularly considered you either.”

“That should tell you something then,” Methos said with a smirk of his own. Kronos growled and pushed away in what Methos assumed was frustration at how he wasn’t the way Kronos anticipated. 

Methos used Kronos’ distraction to knock him off balance. He stumbled and came back swinging, catching Methos on the jaw with all the power of his demonic abilities. Methos moved with the blow, retreating into the middle of the space as Kronos advanced. Just when they reached the middle of the room, Gabriel revealed himself and a trap glowed on the ground around Kronos before settling into stark white curves that contrasted with the dark grey of the concrete. Methos could already feel the prickle of his jaw healing as Kronos snarled and paced the trap as much as he was able. 

“You’re working with angels?” Kronos demanded and Methos shrugged.

“Just the two,” he said, answering easily. “They can think for themselves.”

“Is this all you’ve amounted to?” Kronos asked him, eyes narrowed.

“I realised I didn’t particularly want the world broken beneath my heel,” Methos told him. “For a while there, you didn’t want that either.”

“We could have ruled the world,” Kronos said, yearning. “We could be gods among men.”

“I’ve held the deaths of gods in my hands. I’ve been the end of everything,” Methos told him. “There’s nothing there worth anything.”

“There’s power.”

“So what?” Methos asked him unsympathetically. “You already had that. You had me, too.”

That made Kronos pause and he searched Methos’ expression, trying to judge his sincerity. Methos watched him for a moment before turning to Gabriel.

“Can you find out what happened?”

Gabriel nodded, expression serious and sympathetic, before he turned back to Kronos and grinned. Kronos backed up as far as the trap would allow as Gabriel stepped into the circle, then leapt forward, striking out at the angel who barely moved his head at the blow. Gabriel reached out a hand, holding Kronos in place and touched a finger to his forehead. Kronos slumped, help upright by only Gabriel’s power while Methos watched on with a blank expression.

There was a part of him that despaired how much attention he’d been getting the past few years. He’d made more connections to others, to the world, in that time than he had in the decades before. He felt more alive, more a part of the world than in centuries. But it came at a price. He had the attention of powerful beings he’d spent millennia making forget about him and they weren’t going to stop interfering any time soon. Still, he’d make them regret ever trying. He wasn’t yet that far removed from Death.

“His memory’s been tampered with,” Gabriel told him a short while later. 

“I had managed to determine that myself,” Methos said, tone so dry Gabriel rolled his eyes at him as he released Kronos to fall to the ground in a heap. Gabriel stepped out of the circle once more.

“Feels like one of ours,” Gabriel added. “Someone with a bit of power.”

“Can you undo it?” For now, that was all Methos cared about. Making sure it never happened again would come later.

“It’s precise work and layered with traps to prevent more tampering. It would take a while,” Gabriel told him, then grinned broadly. “But no one does traps like me.”

“Do this and we’d be even,” Methos offered.

“Brother mine,” Gabriel said, slinging an arm around Methos’ shoulder and grinning up at him. “I’d do this one for free.”

“First things first, though.”

...

Tony wondered where they went from here. Crowley’s answers had illuminated the situation a little, but none of the specifics. Cas was still trying to get information from his end of thing and Lindsey hadn’t come up with much either. Both sides seemed to be playing their cards close to the chest and, without any leads, Tony was out of avenues to pursue.

“Adam knows how to look after himself,” Lindsey offered.

“That’s debatable,” Gabriel said, appearing behind Dean’s shoulder. Dean whirled around, hand going to his gun as he glared at Gabriel for surprising him. 

“You know where he is?” Tony asked.

“Sure,” Gabriel said, but nothing further. Tony was more than half sure it was just to annoy them.

“And you’re going to take us to him,” he said.

“That is what he wants.”

“Well,” Dean demanded when the angel folded his arms and carried on staring at them with a faintly amused expression.

“Just... a little forewarning,” Gabriel told them and Tony figured it wasn’t going to be good if Gabriel felt bad enough to warn them. “You may know what Kronos is like now, but you didn’t know him before.”

“Kronos,” Lindsey said. “Is this about Adam?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said, holding out his arm which Tony and Lindsey grasped immediately and Dean much more slowly. A lurch and a flutter of wings later and they were in the middle of an abandoned warehouse. Tony turned to the sound of voices and saw Adam standing outside a devil’s trap, arguing with Kronos inside it.

“I’m your Brother,” Kronos said, banging against the barrier of of the trap and causing it to flare.

“He was my brother millennia before that,” Adam said in a bored tone that was clearly designed to provoke exactly the reaction it did; Kronos yelling at him and banging against the barrier some more.

“I do have to thank you for pulling him out of his shell,” Gabriel told them and gestured to Adam and Kronos, clearly entertained. “Even ten years ago he would have disappeared instead of sticking around for this.”

Adam turned to them and walked over, ignoring the way Kronos yelled at him to get his attention. If that didn’t alert Tony to the fact that something had changed, the blood smeared on Adam’s forehead and staining his side would have been clue enough.

“You’ve got a little something,” Lindsey said, gesturing to Adam’s forehead. Adam frowned and rubbed at the streak of dried blood.

“In the head,” Adam muttered. “He knows I hate getting shot in the head.”

“Did Kronos do that?” Tony couldn’t help but ask, glancing from Adam to the now pacing demon. Adam shrugged which Tony took as verification and he realised what Gabriel meant. The Kronos they’d known over the last few years would never have harmed Methos and would have killed anyone who tried.

Still, after everything he’d been through, he couldn’t just forget what it was like to be the victim of a demon. Whatever Moreau had done, he’d been locked up, serving his term, when Kronos had found him. That was something Tony was having trouble dealing with.


	7. Chapter 7

Tony glanced at his phone as it started to ring. It wasn’t a number he recognised and he was tempted to cancel the call, but it could be Aaron calling him from another phone or Aaron’s family calling about an emergency. 

“DiNozzo,” he answered, only half turning away so he could keep an eye on the demon. It was still a little discomfiting to learn that this version of Kronos was what he’d been like before he became a demon. Somehow, he found the demonic version to be far more human. He wasn’t sure what that said about him or the life he led now that he could find a demon personable.

“Agent DiNozzo,” a woman’s voice said and so much had happened since that it took him a moment to place it.

“Doc.”

“I was going through my schedule for the week and noticed you’d forgotten to make a follow up appointment,” she said casually. Tony very carefully didn’t let her hear him sigh.

“Funny that,” he said. “I can’t imagine how it happened.”

“I’m sure,” she said, tone dry. Tony found himself smiling, glad that she couldn’t see his amusement at her expense. He might not like shrinks in general, but she seemed nice enough. And Adam would probably make him suffer if he offended her. Since she was his relationship counsellor. Looking at the blood still marring Adam’s T-shirt, though he’d managed to clean up the blood on his forehead, and the demon pacing like a caged animal, that thought wasn’t as funny as it had been when he’d found it out. Every time he’d seen the two together, they’d been drawn inexorably to each other and he’d been able to understand that even if he hadn’t always liked it. But now, like this, he couldn’t understand the draw, couldn’t understand why Adam would subject himself to a man who was as callous and unfeeling of his well being. Whatever Adam had been or done in the past, he deserved more than that. 

“So,” she prompted. “Should I set you down for 11am in two days?”

Tony hesitated, turning away from the others entirely and walking further away. 

“I’m not sure I’ll be available.”

“Oh?” she said, a wealth of weighted meaning in that single sound. She was younger than him, but somehow she made him feel like he was facing the cook again when he’d traipsed mud through her kitchen as a child. “Strange. I thought it was my job to clear you for field work.”

“I’m doing a favour for a friend,” he told her, hoping he sounded confident saying that. “I’m not sure how long it’ll take.”

“Hmm.”

Tony supposed that Adam wouldn’t have stuck with her or recommended her if she wasn’t good, but he was really wishing for one of the agency psychologists at this point. He’d never had trouble with them.

“I’ll call before the end of the week,” he offered.

“Good,” she said. “I’d hate to have to tell Assistant Director Crawford that you weren’t cooperating.”

Tony winced at the threat, sure that she would be more than willing to follow through. No doubt, if she did, Crawford would just make extra sessions a requirement of returning. 

“That won’t be necessary,” he assured her quickly before saying his goodbyes. 

...

Kronos couldn’t believe that Methos had mortal allies now. And angels too, apparently. The Methos he’d known and chased and fought hadn’t allowed anyone to see who he really was after Kronos, not really, and part of him had revelled in that, revelled in the fact that no one had been able to compare to him. But now there were three mortals and an angel who knew enough about Methos not to be surprised by Kronos showing up or about the Horsemen.

Kronos had no recollection of becoming a demon and he had to admit the drawbacks were a little frustrating. The only benefit was that whatever sort of demon an Immortal became was just different enough that his testing of the sigil that kept him trapped had shown some measure of success. Each time he tested the barrier keeping him in, it gave just a little bit more. He waited until they’d left him mostly alone. Not that he was ever left completely alone but, except for the angel, they were mortal and had to sleep. He stepped back, watching the freckly mortal who was watching him in return, and subtly pushed against the barrier until it finally gave with a flash of light. Before Freckles could blink the light away, Kronos charged at him. He punched hard, but only managed a glancing blow, and spun, drawing a silver dagger as he did so. Kronos ducked back, kicking out with a foot to Freckles’ knee. Freckles grunted but maintained his feet and began to circle him.

“I knew it was just a matter of time before you turned on him,” Freckles said. 

“What?” Kronos said before shaking his head, dismissing the question entirely, and lunging. The dagger cut into the flesh of his side, grazing his ribs. It ached, deeply and intensely; bright and burning pain blazing an inferno along his nerves. He didn’t let the surprise stop his forward momentum and hooked a leg around Freckles’ ankle, dropping him to the ground. Freckles gripped his shirt and Kronos following after him. The blade fell from Freckles’ fingers, skittering across the floor.

“Ca-” Freckles started to say, but Kronos slapped a hand over his mouth, silencing him. In this world of magic, demons and angels, he couldn’t be sure of anything. Freckles glared at him, eyes sparking with fury, and he jerked his entire body, trying to throw Kronos off him, but Kronos was stronger and heavier than him. Kronos would usually have killed him without a second thought, but something deep and instinctual stopped him. He punched the side of Freckles’ head instead. Freckles reeled from the impact and his eyes slid shut. Kronos waited for only a moment to check he wasn’t faking before he rose.

After a thousand years of watching Methos, he’d learned the benefit of having contingency plans for his contingency plans. And to always have an exit plan. He left through the side door and was at his car and gone before anyone else could be alerted. He drove until he was well away from the warehouse and then swapped cars before doubling back a little and heading to his backup plan. The abandoned military base was only as useful as its defunct laboratory, but Kronos hadn’t been able to resist. As soon as he parked, men, women and children started approaching his car, their eyes demon-black. The bracelet felt warm and heavy against his skin and he couldn’t help but admire it as he stepped out of the car. 

“What are your orders?” one of the demons asked.

“Come,” Kronos said and one of them darted forward, head bowed as he stopped in front of Kronos.

The longer he had the bracelet on his wrist, the more Kronos remembered what it felt like to be one of the Horsemen, to have that power pulsing beneath his skin. It was intoxicating, but not enough to make him forget the way Methos had looked at him. It had been millennia since Methos had looked at him with anything but disappointment or dread. 

He couldn’t let that interfere with his plans though. He pressed a hand to one of the demon’s foreheads and let his power flow.


	8. Chapter 8

Lindsey checked his phone again, the third time in ten minutes, for any news of potential outbreaks. Instead of being relieved when there were none, his tension just ratcheted up. No news at this point wasn’t good news.

“What would he do?” Tony asked, pacing the confines of the warehouse as Adam tilted Dean’s head to inspect the bruise forming on his temple. Dean rolled his eyes and then winced at what must have been a fairly bad headache and Adam let him go. 

“He’d target the biggest population concentrations he could,” Adam said, arms folded as he looked into the middle distance, not matching gazes with any of them and Lindsey knew he was feeling exposed. They’d all known his relationship with Kronos was, at the very least, complicated, but Adam didn’t talk about the past, about what had gone down between them, but the fractures were out in the open now, cracked wide open for them all to see. “It’s what he did last time.”

“The train station,” Tony said.

“The clinic,” Lindsey offered. “Or the mall.”

The town they’d found themselves in after being taken by Gabriel wasn’t exactly thriving and, from what little Lindsey had seen, it was in decline. It was a good place to work on something in relative secrecy, but hardly as convenient when coordinating an attack.

“The train station, most likely,” Adam agreed, turning to look at Tony. “He’d want maximum spread of infection and maximum casualties.”

“If I wanted to inflict as much damage as possible, I’d use demons. They could carry disease without succumbing to it,” Lindsey told him. 

“Cas!” Dean called, looking up at the ceiling. After a short moment, Castiel appeared amongst them, already turning toward Dean and raising a hand, the bruise disappearing as though it had never been there. “We need to head to the train station.”

“Of course,” Cas said, reaching for his arm.

“Before you go,” Tony said before Cas could disappear with Dean. “Drop Lindsey off at the nearest police station.”

Lindsey nodded, striding over to join the other two.

“I’ll coordinate, make sure the police have the potential locations locked down,” he said.

“Good,” Tony said, but Lindsey could tell he was unsettled by everything and he couldn’t blame him. It was a lot to deal with, especially after everything he’d already been through. But Lindsey had never struggled to see what Adam and Kronos were to each other. They’d been forces of nature, immutable and inevitable, and no matter how easily they played at being human, judging them by human standards was never going to explain anything. “We’ll track down Kronos’ current location.”

...

“How would we go about finding him?” Tony asked quietly after the others had gone. Adam smirked, but it was a wry, humourless quirk of his mouth. 

“When he’s like this, he likes to think he’s unpredictable. He thinks sudden outbursts of violence are the same thing.”

“But?”

“There are very few things I could better predict than Kronos,” Adam admitted, falling silent. He stared at the floor for a long moment until Tony wondered if he was going to talk at all again. 

Tony couldn’t help but have his gaze be drawn repeatedly to the blood stain on Adam’s front. Whatever had happened to Kronos had changed him, that much was clear. The man Tony knew was not the same as the man who now wore that skin. And as unconscionable as Tony found inhabiting someone else’s body without their consent, when confronted with the stark differences, he could at least see now the ways in which Kronos had changed. 

“As soon as I can sit down at a computer for five minutes, I’ll have a location for you,” Adam told him, the weary cast to his features and stoop of his shoulders making him look, if not his age, then somehow ageless. “He always did favour overt displays of power and I think there’s an abandoned military base near here.”

“That’ll certainly be a help,” Tony said, watching as Adam wiped a hand down his face and levered himself to his feet. He looked tired. “You doing all right?”

“Just dandy,” Adam said blandly, before he turned to meet Tony’s eyes in a deliberately casual move. 

“Why?” Tony found himself asking, a question he’d been holding in for years now. Adam looked at him for a moment, as though debating whether to give him a proper answer or to pretend he’d misunderstood the question entirely.

“Because when we were good we were very good, but when we were bad we were better,” Adam said with a smirk. 

“Mae West?” Tony asked with a raised eyebrow. Adam shrugged and looked away again. 

“Whatever you are to each other, whatever that means, it doesn’t make this okay,” Tony said with a vague gesture to the bloodstain. Adam gave him a look that was equal parts amused and condescending.

“What we are is relics. The only survivors of a time few others remember,” Adam told him. “I’ve never claimed it was healthy or sane, only that it is what it is.”

“Before you left, you were just like him.”

“Before I chose to leave,” Adam said, meeting Tony’s eyes unflinchingly, “I was worse.”

Suddenly it clicked for Tony. He’d been considering all the disparate pieces in isolation, but in that moment they were clearly laid out before him. 

Adam was a choice. Tony knew he was Methos and Azrael and more names than Tony could probably conceive of, never mind ever know, but right here and now Methos had made a choice to be Adam, he’d made a choice to remain Immortal and with the team. It was a deliberate and considered action that he’d probably been doing for centuries, if not millennia. Methos was constantly making a choice, not just for who he was currently, but with an eye on who he wanted to be in the future.

And he realised that that was where things were different for Kronos. It wasn’t that he was actually all that different from Adam, not the way Tony had assumed, that the shared history and their experiences were what tied them together. It was that Kronos had just not made the same choice. Not yet, but Tony thought he might have been close. The Kronos Tony knew had chosen Methos, this Kronos, the one from before all that, had chosen only himself. At no point had he consciously decided who he was going to be and made a choice toward that.

Tony considered his own experiences with becoming someone else, always with the knowledge that it was temporary and that, even if it sometimes took much longer than anticipated, he would be coming home. He knew that even if there wasn’t someone there, he had his own rituals to bring himself back; flirting with a barrista, watching old movies, playing piano. He tried to imagine what it would be like if he tried to come back to himself in a world where none of those things existed any more. 

Tony watched him walk away realising that whatever else he had been thinking about Adam and Kronos, regardless of what they were or what they used to be, they weren’t fundamentally different. The only real difference was that Adam was just a little further down his chosen path than Kronos.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I rewrote the first scene in three different POVs before settling on Tony. It refused to cooperate.

Tony couldn’t help but shudder as they landed in the middle of the decommissioned army base only to find themselves surrounded by demons. But with all the focus on Adam and Kronos, he was glad for a few moments to get himself together. Gabriel stood at Adam’s shoulder, hovering in that way only an arch-angel turned trickster seemed to be able to when his older brother was involved. 

“Methos,” Kronos said, stalking forward until he was chest to chest with him, but Adam didn’t back down, not even as Tony might expect him to, to play for time. “I thought you were smarter than this. Confronting the enemy in his lair isn’t what anyone would call a good tactical approach.”

“Is that what you are? All you are? An enemy?” Adam asked, undaunted as six demons began to circle them. Tony adjusted his grip on his blade, nervous but not willing to show it, as he felt the charge in the air that usually meant Gabriel or Cas were about to do something scary and angelic.

“Maybe after a few centuries in a hole, you’d be more willing to take your place,” Kronos told Adam, gripping his chin and holding his gaze, as if Adam’s attention had wavered from him at all from the moment they’d arrived. 

“You think a hole in the ground is the worst I could have done?” Adam asked, sounding as patronising as Tony had ever heard him. He shivered at the thought of what Adam could do if he put his mind to it, with millennia of experience behind him and not hiding who he was any more. 

“This isn’t going to end well,” Gabriel muttered lowly and Tony couldn’t help but agree. If they couldn't find a way to get through to Kronos, he wasn't sure the Adam he'd been getting to know would survive. It was all too easy to see that Adam might make a different choice, one that didn't have a view to being a better version of himself.

There was a fluttering sound and several angels appeared, immediately dealing with the demons surrounding them. Even though he knew they weren’t in any better a situation with the angels than they had been with the demons, Tony couldn’t help but feel relieved. The angels would just kill them if they wanted to, they couldn’t try to slip inside them and make them do things against their will, not without their permission. And that wasn't happening any time soon.

“This would have been much simpler if you’d done what you should have,” one of the angels said. Her host was a pretty blond woman, her petite stature belying the power of the angel inside her. 

“Eremiel,” Gabriel said, edging closer to Adam. 

“Gabriel,” she said, barely sparing him a glance.

“You mean driving us apart,” Adam scoffed, hands shoved into his pockets and looking like nothing so much as a moody student. Tony wondered what weapon he was concealing. “You had to have known how futile that would be. We were drawn together even when we were trying to kill each other.”

Eremiel gestured to the other angels and they reached forward, grabbing Kronos and holding him tightly. Tony definitely agreed with Gabriel. There was no way this was going to end well. 

“This cannot be allowed to continue,” Eremiel spat, drawing a blade and holding it to Kronos’ back. She met Adam’s gaze over his shoulder and glowered when Adam drew his own blade. “You strayed beyond your natural position before and it meant your fall. This is an abomination.”

Gabriel tensed at Adam’s side and Tony readied himself, but not even Gabriel could move fast enough to stop Eremiel’s blade from sliding home. Gabriel’s hand dropped from where he’d been reaching out toward Kronos as Kronos’ gasp turned into a gurgle and the angels holding him let him slump to the ground. Adam slammed a blade into the throat of the nearest angel and Gabriel leapt to cover Tony’s eyes as the angel’s grace gave one last burst before fading. 

There was a flutter of wings as Eremiel disappeared, her companions following a moment later now that their mission had been accomplished. The silence seemed loud as Gabriel released him and Tony turned to see Adam looking down at Kronos’ body, his expression closed off and hard, like he'd given up trying to be anything close to human. Gabriel stepped forward, mouth opening as if to say something, before he hesitated and stopped short. They kept quiet watch as Adam knelt at Kronos’ side and hesitated briefly before checking his pulse.

“They won’t be back,” he said, standing.

“Adam,” Tony said, resting a hand on his shoulder, not knowing what to say or how to comfort him in the wake of his loss. Adam stilled for a moment before he pulled away.

“I’ll be in the office on Monday,” Adam told him. He glanced down at Kronos’ body once more before walking out. Tony moved to followed him, but Gabriel grabbed his shoulder and carried him away. 

...

Jane watched as Tony entered her office and settled down on the couch with barely a glance in her direction. She frowned as she looked at him, noting the dark smudges under his eyes and the stoop of his shoulders. They didn’t have a session scheduled, but her morning was free, and it looked like he needed it more than she needed to establish boundaries.

“You were right,” he said, looking up finally.

“About?” she asked cautiously, moving out from behind her desk and taking the seat opposite him.

“Did Adam tell you?” he asked, seeming to change topics.

“Tell me what?” she asked, leaning back and trying to maintain her demeanour. 

“I wasn’t ready. I thought I could power through it like I usually do, but this is so much more,” Tony said, gaze dropping to his hands as he gripped them together so tightly they shook. It seemed indicative of his entire state of being. 

“Agent DiNozzo,” she prompted gently, keeping her voice soft. “What happened?”

“Damien’s dead.”

“What?” she asked, her voice catching as her professional façade crumbled. She had been by turns terrified of and frustrated and fascinated by him. But she knew that the relationship between him and Adam had defined the two men for a very long time, whether they were with or against each other. She doubted they knew entirely who they were without the other. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. He was struggling with this, she could tell, and it looked like all the progress he’d made in his own recovery had been pushed back. She could deal with it later, could track down Adam and make sure he wasn’t hiding in wry humour and alcohol, could have a breakdown of her own over ice cream and a glass of wine. 

“We stopped a biological attack,” he said, and she noticed that he’d started twisting the ring on his finger again. “Barely, but we got there.”

“Tony,” she said, worried about his disjointed thoughts. 

“That’s how Damien died. In the crossfire.”

“How are you dealing with this?” she asked, getting a shaky, bitter laugh in return as his fingers restlessly turned the ring. 

“Time,” he said, looking up and meeting her gaze with steady gaze of his own. “I need time.”

She nodded, having a feeling they all would. 

...

Methos barely glanced up as someone took the seat next to him. The bar was practically empty, but Methos didn’t feel much like company.

“Pie?” Death offered.

“Thanks,” Methos said, accepting the plate. “Beer?”

“Thank you, no.”

They ate in silence for several minutes, the only noise the sound of cutlery on the plate and chewing. Methos knew it wouldn’t last, not when Death had sought him out, but Death could afford to take his time and Methos wasn’t in any particular rush. 

“Was the massacre really necessary?” Death finally asked, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin.

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

Eremiel had disappeared before he could deliver a message of his own. Tracking her down had been a little more difficult without Gabriel’s help, but his little brother hadn’t been responding to his summons and Methos was reluctant to drag him into another angel fight that wasn’t his. 

“Now they know where I stand, how far I’m willing to go,” Methos said, downing the last of his beer.

“At least try to be less messy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Hmm,” Death murmured again. “Perhaps some patience would be advised.”

“I’m not sure patience would make any difference,” Methos said, giving him a humourless smile as he stood. “Always a pleasure.”

“Indeed.”


	10. Chapter 10

Methos ignored the knocking on his door until it became a pounding. With a sigh, he dragged himself to his feet and grabbed a knife he’d left on the coffee table before going to open it. He hadn’t answered any calls from anyone on the team and, if it was anyone else, they’d be lucky if he slammed the door in their faces.

“Methos,” Kronos said when Methos pulled open the door.

With a snarl, Methos grabbed him and pulled him into the apartment, slamming the door behind him and shoving him up against it. He pressed the knife in close to the imposter’s neck, drawing blood.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“You know who I am.”

Methos pressed the knife in closer and the imposter swallowed but didn’t falter.

“Gabriel did something, just before that bitch shanked me,” Kronos said with a shake of his head. “He pulled me out of my body... Moreau’s body. I don’t know how.”

It was possible. Methos had felt the build up of power and Gabriel was entirely capable of creating illusions strong enough to fool him without his full power. It was possible, but Methos couldn’t trust that it was true. 

“This body’s all mine now. Created just for me,” Kronos told him, then smirked. “Cruelty free and everything. He knew they wouldn’t leave you alone without the proof of a body.”

“They’re not an issue any more,” Methos said and Kronos’ smirk became a grin. 

“Of course not. You always were decisive when you put your mind to something.”

He looked so much like himself, like the Kronos that Methos had known the last few years, that he could almost let himself believe. 

“Why didn’t Gabriel tell me what he’d done?” Methos asked, but he could guess the answer to that too. Gabriel wouldn’t have wanted to give him false hope and whatever he’d done couldn’t have been easy, especially when the soul he was working with was demonic and anathema to everything angelic. Not to mention when it was as unique as Kronos. Kronos shrugged, still looking unconcerned at the position he was in.

“He also spent an uncomfortable amount of time sifting through what’s left of my soul,” Kronos said with a shudder. “Whatever the angels did to me is gone.”

Methos wavered and Kronos raised a hand to curve around the nape of his neck, ignoring the warning look Methos shot him. But then Kronos always had been stupidly reckless with a disregard for personal space.

“You know who I am.”

Kronos reached into his pocket and withdrew something, holding it out for Methos. He immediately recognised it as the bracelet Kronos had been wearing, the new symbol of the Horsemen.

“Gabriel found it for me,” Kronos told him. “Take it.”

“You’d give up being Pestilence?”

“I was becoming something new before they got hold of me. Someone who could build something. Someone who could be with you. Take it. I don’t need it,” Kronos told him and Methos was embarrassed by how much his shaky exhale revealed. 

“If you ever kill me again, I’ll return the favour far more permanently,” Methos assured him and he took the bracelet with his free hand and slipped it into his own pocket. Kronos curled his fingers around Methos’ wrist and held it there, not flinching when the knife bit in deeper. 

“Anything,” Kronos told him. “I just need you.”

Methos lowered the knife.

...

Dean slowed as he walked through the parking garage. Adam had returned to work as though he hadn’t gone off the reservation and revealed that Damien wasn’t as dead as they’d all thought, which might have been a relief, but Dean was a little jaded about these things. It had been a stressful week all round.

“Squirrel,” he heard as someone stepped out of the shadows and Dean turned, pulling his gun and firing. He might admit, under extreme pressure, that what happened with Adam could have made him a little jumpy.

“Woah there,” Crowley said, rising from a crouch and dusting himself off. “I just thought you could use a little more information.”

“At what cost?” Dean demanded, not lowering his weapon.

“Always so suspicious,” Crowley tutted. “And here I thought I was cultivating some good will.”

“Get to the point.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Crowley drawled. “Lucifer’s escaped.”

It became clear then exactly what Crowley’s agenda was. He wasn’t going to take on Lucifer again without some cannon fodder.

“Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Kronos is in his own body and he’s started to make choices towards who he wants to be, not just about what he wants. And that’s pretty much Methos and Kronos’ story. I don’t think there’ll be much more of their angst. Lindsey and Eliot should be next. Or maybe Dean and Lucifer. (And some short vignette fics, including Tony finding out Kronos is alive.) And then a wedding.


End file.
